


Wrapped Up In You

by DaydreamDestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Sam, Established Relationship, It's a Wonderful Life, M/M, Power Play, Semi-Public Sex, Top Gabriel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 19:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaydreamDestiel/pseuds/DaydreamDestiel
Summary: Sam Wesson doesn't do many adventurous things. He's the kind of guy that likes to stay home with his kinky boyfriend. Unfortunately, he's also wrapped neatly around Gabriel's finger, which is how he winds up down the street at a bar near his work ... waiting for Gabriel to fuck him stupid in the bathroom.





	Wrapped Up In You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fill for my SPN Kink Bingo card. The square was Sabriel. :D Enjoy. <3

This isn’t something Sam does. He’s sitting on a barstool, a tall glass of beer in front of him—his second—on the shiny cherry wood bar top. There’s a crowd just starting to gather, some familiar faces he recognizes from work. It’s lucky for him that the place isn’t much classier than it is, ‘cause he’s still in his yellow polo shirt, looking like a dork. Feeling like one too.

Like he said, he doesn’t do this. A chilly gust of wind draws his attention to the door, and in walks the whole reason that Sam’s sitting here instead of going home to their cozy apartment like he normally would. Gabriel Novak saunters over, a perpetual smirk on his face that Sam’s already dying to kiss. He’s late, but then, he always likes to make Sam wait for him whenever they do anything.

Maybe it oughta be embarrassing, how wrapped around Gabriel’s finger he is, but Sam’s not about to complain. He doesn’t talk to Sam when he sits next to him and orders a strawberry daiquiri, and Sam knows better than to talk first.

Gabriel’s three quarters of the way through his drink before he finally speaks. “Go to the bathroom, last stall. Get yourself ready.”

Heat lances it's way straight to Sam’s dick, chubbing it up fast. Arousal shivers down his spine, goosebumps tingling along his arms. He nods, and swallows down the last mouthful of warm beer in his glass—liquid courage he needs to make it through this part.

Once Gabriel meets him in the bathroom, he'll be fine, but until then, his nerves will be like livewires in his gut. Just before he stands Gabriel squeezes his thigh, and it's reassurance and comfort and the promise that he's gonna make this so good for Sam.

Standing up, Sam digs his teeth into his bottom lip, drags them roughly over the swell of it, and does what he was told to. He makes his way across the room, cheeks burning, and hopes no one's looking too closely at him. The bathroom’s a little dark, but it's surprisingly clean, probably 'cause it's so early in the evening.

Sam slips into the empty last stall. There are a couple other people in the washroom and he waits for them to clear out before he gets his pants undone. A hiss of breath pushes past his teeth in relief when the constricting pressure of his pants eases. His pants and underwear get shoved down to mid thigh, and then he remembers—right, fuck, he's gotta get the packet of lube out of his pocket. So he jams his hand into his bunched up pocket and finds it.

It doesn't take Sam long to get himself slicked up and ready on two fingers. He likes the feeling when he's still tight like this and Gabriel just shoves his way inside. The burning stretch of it gets Sam hard as hell, and he can't wait to feel it. He slips his fingers free, wipes his hand on his thigh, and then he waits.

His stomach gives a nervous flip when he hears the door squeak open and boots falling on the floor, coming closer and closer. There's a pause, and a flush ignites in Sam's cheeks, down his neck and into his chest, 'cause maybe it's not Gabriel. It could be anyone out there. Someone who has no clue that Sam's in here wet and waiting.

The footsteps resume and three quiet knocks sound on the door of his stall. Sam huffs a little breath, his anticipation ratcheting up another notch. He unlocks the stall and lets Gabriel in. As soon as the door’s locked again, Gabriel pulls him down into a kiss that Sam feels like thunder in every part of his body. Gabriel’s tongue is clever, and slick, his teeth sharp against Sam's lips.

He tastes sweet like the strawberry flavoring from his drink and Sam's always loved how sugary his kisses are even if he constantly tries to get him to eat better. Right now though, all Sam's thinking about is the way Gabriel owns his mouth, and the way his fingers grip Sam's hair.

Minutes later, Sam's mind is spinning, hazy with pleasure and lust, and he finds himself leaned over the toilet, hands braced against the wall, knees bent so that he's low enough for Gabriel. Sam bites down on his own bicep to keep from making any noise as Gabriel lines up and slams into him in one slippery easy slide. Pain tightens his gut and makes his dick leak a rush of precome—it rapidly turns to pleasure, or Sam's brain interprets it that way, at least.

Gabriel's fingers are clenching in the cut of Sam's hips, hard enough to leave bruises, and Sam wants to tell him harder, but he keeps quiet. Long sharp snaps of Gabriel's hips keep Sam suspended in euphoria, he's angling just right to firmly rub against Sam's prostate with every thrust and it doesn't take much time at all for Sam to rocket toward his climax.

He's not allowed though, not until Gabriel fills him up, comes hot and dirty in his ass—and fuck, Sam's toes curl just thinking about it. He's so close and he wants it bad. His body's pushing back into every thrust Gabriel gives him and he wants to come so fucking bad. He'd be begging if he could, if he wasn't worried about getting caught. The music from the bar’s loud enough—even in here—that the sound of skin on skin won't be heard, but if he starts begging, someone's gonna hear him.

Gabriel pounds into him over and over, and Sam fights against his own body, tries to hold out. Gabriel's thrusts are erratic now, he's gonna come any second, Sam knows from experience—he just—he's just gotta hold on a little longer.

Suddenly Gabriel grinds in deep, hips twitching as heat floods Sam in pulses. Fuck Gabriel's coming—knowing that builds up an intense rush of arousal in Sam's gut and inches him right up the edge.

Gabriel's hand barely gets the chance to wrap around him and aim Sam's cock into the toilet before his muscles spasm and pleasure jolts through him in hard, filthy rushes. He watches himself come into the toilet, burning up with how hot Gabriel gets him.  He's trembling and shaky when he finally stops pulsing, and Gabriel's hand smoothes up his back under his shirt.

Warm fingers rub over the muscles of his back in long sweeps as he comes down. They clean up as best they can and then Gabriel turns him around. There's a twinkle in his eye and a soft look on his face that Sam eats up. He loves the way Gabriel looks at him.

Before he goes, Gabriel thumbs over Sam's bottom lip, kisses him slow and sweet. He leaves Sam aching for later when they'll be wrapped up together in his bed.

Once Gabriel leaves Sam gives himself a moment to tidy up a bit better. He flushes the toilet and smooths down his hair, makes sure his pants are done up. Then he goes out and washes his hands, splashes a little water on his face. Eventually he just accepts the fact that he looks freshly fucked, and once again hopes no one's looking too closely at him.

Back at the bar, he sits down next to Gabriel again. Gabriel smirks at him. “Hey, kid. Lemme buy you a drink, you look like you could use one.”

Sam can't help the laugh that bursts out of him. Warm and happy, he smiles at Gabriel. “Sure. My boyfriend's gonna take me home later though, so don't get your hopes up.”

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel plays along, eyes sparkling delightedly. “He must be a lucky guy.”

Sam tilts his head a little, a small smile pulling up his lips, “Actually, I'd say it's the opposite.”

Gabriel chuckles. “Uh-huh. Really working for that drink aren't you, Sam. Flatterer.”

“Shut up,” Sam says, though it lacks heat. “Buy me another beer and we'll just call it even.”

Sam watches Gabriel confidently order him his favorite beer, and he knows he'll be replaying this whole scene later in his mind. He also knows that despite what he said, he's most certainly the luckier one.


End file.
